Incredible India
by Tehri
Summary: When he was an Empire, she was the Jewel in his crown. They shared something that neither could forget, and which neither would find anywhere else. They still haven't forgotten.


**Author's Note: It's been ages since I submitted anything here, I know. And I have no idea how long it'll be before it happens again. At any rate, I started this two years ago, and I felt like finishing it. So here you go, a story involving my OC of India.**

* * *

They have a long history together, and they know it.

To tell the truth, it is not quite as long as they would wish, but that's the world for you.

It tears people apart, away from others, away from themselves.

It kills people, nations, and continents.

It slays kings and queens alike, without a second thought, and leaves a broken crown in its wake.

And in England's case, it leaves a sundered crown, split between so many of the world's nations, with its largest shining jewel far beyond his reach when the embodiment of the old Empire wakes from his nightmares, holding out his hand as he screams the name of this exotic gem.

* * *

Arthur Kirkland gasps for air as he practically flies out of his bed, rushing to the window to tear away the curtains. Darkness rests around him in his room, as well as outside his house – the clouds still shield the moon, and raindrops are thrown against the window by the wind. A part of him wonders what he actually expected to see.

_Maybe you thought there were little rebels_, a voice taunts in his head, a voice that sounds too much like his own to calm his racing heart. _Perhaps you expected those filthy ungrateful children to stand there, ready to burn your house down with you inside. Or did you think you lived in my time again?_

"Go away."

He knows how visible the fear is in his eyes as he whispers those two words and draws the curtains again, turning his back on the window. And as he does so, he fancies that there might be a shadow in his room, with bright scornful green eyes and a taunting grin.

_You are not me,_ the shadow says, holding out its hands. _You have not been me for quite many years now. And yet, you still wake and believe that you are._

"I said, go away."

The shadow takes two long strides and slams its palms against the wall, caging the island nation against the wall. Identical emerald eyes bore into each other; two wills battle for domination, but one is slowly breaking.

_You wake and believe that you see __**our**__ fears in your dreams_, snarls the shadow. _Naïve as always, Arthur. Your fears are your own, not mine. I have no need to fear them. But you…_ The grin returns, and Arthur is slowly shoved down on his knees. _You are still a captive here. You have to balance upon that knife's edge. And you fear the day you slip and the knife takes your head off._

"GO AWAY!" Arthur knows all too well that he is screaming at the top of his lungs, and he feels the tears slip down his cheeks. "Go away and leave me alone! You're not supposed to be here!"

_Oh, but I am._ The shadow steps away, a look of disgust in its eyes. _I am here because I know what this will make you do. Because no matter how pathetic you are or how much I hate to say it, we are the same. We __**want**__ the same. Her. Our jewel._

"Jewel…" His voice breaks momentarily and he closes his eyes. "Sati."

_Yes, Sati. Go and find her. And be quick about it._

* * *

Arthur took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair as he attempted to muster some courage. Of course he knew that she would be in there – it was a world meeting, she _had _to be there unless she was ill.

_Is she ill? No, she must be there!_

He was always early, without fail. A day early, in fact, and he had no way of knowing whether she was actually there already. He had, however, fancied that he felt the scent of spices, the spices that she so loved.

_She is there. Just knock already._

He lifted his hand. Before it could even touch the door, however, a voice called out from inside.

"Are you going to stand there all night, Arthur? It's not locked!"

His cheeks heated immediately; of course she would know. He bit his lip and opened the door. There she was, dressed in a beautiful fiery red sari, with her black hair held back in a heavy loose braid. India.

Sati smiled brightly as Arthur stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He attempted to smile back, but felt how it faltered and turned into a half-hearted grimace.

"It's been some time, my dear," she said as she danced over to him and grasped his hands. "I've missed you."

_Embrace her! Hold her close! Kiss her!_

"I've missed you too, Sati…" He found himself still chewing on his lip. "Uhm… I just wondered… Do you have time for a chat? Just for a little while, I understand if you're tired and want to rest, but I really-"

She placed one finger against his lips to stop him from babbling; without saying anything, she led him over to the bed and made him sit down, and he followed her graceful movements carefully with his gaze as she sat next to him.

_Her scent… Just how long has it been? Too long, much too long._

"When do I not have time for you, _raja_?" She smiled warmly at him and leant back. "Though I suspect you do not have as much time for me. It has been far too long since we last saw each other."

_She called you __**raja**__. Ruler. King. Brings back so many memories._

Green eyes turned to the floor, almost in shame; though perhaps not so much in shame as in an attempt to retain at least a little bit of his former decency – wherever that had suddenly disappeared to.

"I've been busy," he said softly. "As have you. I don't want to trouble you."

"Well, at the very least you're here now. Come, come, talk to me. You said you wanted a chat. I'm not supposed to do all the chatting."

He didn't reply at first, or even look back at her. Finally, Sati knelt before him on the floor and took his hands, worriedly gazing into his eyes. She ignored how he started, but she definitely didn't miss the odd look in his eyes when they met hers.

"You're not sleeping well, are you," she asked gently. "Have those dreams returned again?" As he nodded, she reached out and touched his cheek. "Arthur, I have told you again and again, if you need to talk to anyone, I'm only a call away."

_And a packed bag, and a bloody plane-ride or two._

"That's not enough."

The words came out even before Arthur knew that they were on his tongue, and they surprised him just as much as her, it seemed; but there was a smile on her lips, and a fondness in her gaze that part of the Englishman claimed was not quite proper. She opened her mouth, but he plunged on, trying to explain his words to her.

"I, I just meant, it's not really… That is, uhm, I… I like to hear your voice, but it's not… It's not really…"

"It's not really what you want." She finished the sentence for him with confidence as she slowly got to her feet once more. "You need me to be here for you, like this. Right beside you, not as a thought, but in person, you just need…"

She trailed off for a moment as a most familiar smile spread on her lips; it was that predatory smile that had made Arthur wonder, all those years ago, about if he had been all that sane when he took the decision to take her as his own. She knew what he wanted, what he needed.

"You need _me_. Oh, you need me more than anything in this world, _raja_…"

_And she will happily give it to you… She will happily be ruled by you again, __**raja**__, she wants this, she needs this as much as you do, she needs you to remind her of those glory days, you must remind her of who her king is, who she belongs to…_

Words flew through his mind as he grabbed her and pulled her down, crashing their lips together as he leant back to let her rest on top of him; the words continued to pass through his mind and over his lips after their clothes had been carelessly thrown on the floor and they were a mess of pulsating heaving flesh and flexing limbs. At first the words were mere whispers, but they steadily rose in volume, until neither of the two nations knew who had called out first.

* * *

The crown will never be whole again; the former Empire has already watched his glory days pass, and he will forever treasure the memories.

He was the one who held the world in the palm of his hand. The sun never set upon the mighty Empire.

And although the crown's greatest jewel will never again be part of his crown, she still shines as brightly as the sun; although the crown will never be whole again, she has not forgotten.

She is the Jewel of the British Empire, and she is forever happy to remain as such, if but in name.


End file.
